


Punishment exceeding the crime

by Axolotl7



Series: Playing with Melinda May [9]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Dom!Coulson, Dom!Lincoln, Dom/sub, F/F, F/M, Multi, Sub!May, Whipping, dom!Skye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4158783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axolotl7/pseuds/Axolotl7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some punishments are more warranted than others</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N So, this kinda follows Never When Irritable ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No... this fic is not just an excuse to let Coulson to whip May...   
> definitely not...   
> well...

8.35am

May

She knocked at his office door before letting herself slip inside.

Coulson was clearly in the middle of something but spared her a quick glance with a “Morning May” before looking back down at the reports spread across his desk.

She never saw the point in wasting time beating about the bush so she walked straight round his desk, sinking to her knees, spreading her legs and lowering her eyes submissively to the carpet.

Now she had his attention. 

He rolled the chair back away from the desk and spun slightly to sit before her. He leaned forwards, hand cupping her cheek, tilting her chin to raise her eyes to his. “What can I do for you, pet?” he asked her quietly, love in his eyes.

She took a deep breath before responding.

“Whip me?” she pleaded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today - more detailed chapter tomorrow hopefully

8.38am

Coulson

He loved May, her really did. She was quirky, intelligent, funny as hell and his best friend.  
But some days she just confused the hell out of him!

She was in a relationship with Skye and Lincoln, probably the best thing that had ever happened to her and here she was, kneeling on the battered old carpet in his office, asking to sub to him. 

Without them. He was all for the sharing and good times but really, if May wanted to play then it should at least be worked out through her Doms – that was the natural order of things. She wasn’t a free agent anymore. She came with ties. Ties that were quite clearly in love with her and that he believed she loved back!

Sure, they’d fallen out yesterday but he thought after speaking with her that she’d go back to them and apologise. He did not think that she’d end up coming back to him seeking out his dominance.

Ah. So, that’s what’s happened he surmised. They’ve broken up and May wants a few hours of mindless numbness. He sighed. He’d happily help her, give her mind the rest that it craved for a little while, but doing so was only going to make it that much harder to get her relationship with Lincoln and Skye back on track. 

He sighed audibly.

He’d been silent since her request, just watching her as she sat motionless, slightly hunched as though anticipating his rejection to make a physical impact.

“Did you apologise to Lincoln?” he eventually asked. She nodded, her gaze still trailing the muted tones of the carpet.

“Did he forgive you?” he tried next. She nodded again.

“So why are you here?” he asked, hoping for more of an answer, but she simply sat in silence.

He sighed. Again. He was doing a lot of that recently. Maybe he should get her drunk. She was always much easier to handle when she was drunk – okay, maybe not easier but at least he didn’t get this passive resistance of absolute silence when she was tipsy.

“You want me to whip you?” he asked, as if her earlier request had been anything but absolutely clear. She nodded. ‘Yes/no’ answers it seemed they were playing today. Oh how he really wasn’t in the mood for twenty questions today!

“Have you spoken to Lincoln and Skye about this?”  
She pursed her lips making clear her adamant intention not to answer.

“Is that, ‘no you haven’t spoken to them and you don’t want to tell me’ or ‘yes you spoke to them and you don’t want to tell me what happened’?” 

Nothing.

“Come on May...” he pressed. He wasn’t a mind reader! Gah, she was so frustrating! He’d half a mind to take a whip to her back now anyway, but then she probably knew that and he couldn’t entirely be certain she hadn’t planned it this way. 

Nothing. 

“I can’t help you if you won’t tell me...” he tried wheedling.

Nothing. Not even a twitch of a muscle.

 

“Fine,” he said, standing abruptly. “If you won’t tell me then I’ll just invite your Doms to come to my office and ask them.”

Her head came up and eyes met his like a shot, the threat therein easy enough to read... and a little scary he was willing to admit to himself. 

“Forget it,” she spat as she rose and pushed past him to leave, slamming the door closed behind her with a very final sounding bang.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Might want to read Never When Irritable before this chapter as it kinda relies heavily on that fic.

7.15am  
May

She was enjoying dozing this morning.

She didn’t often get to indulge in a lie in but she was off duty for the next three days so damn it she was going to indulge. She needed it, she admitted to herself. She’d been worn down by the last mission – no, that wasn’t true. The mission had been pretty standard and gone as well as could have been expected. It had just been long - no, it had been a week. A week wasn’t a long time... but it had felt long because she’d missed them. And she hadn’t been able to sleep properly without them. And then she’d come back... irritable.

It was never good when she was tired. When she was ‘irritable’ as Coulson had always coded it. And the preceding evening was definitely the worst she’d been. She’d forced an argument because she wanted a fight. She’d even physically fought with Lincoln before running away. She was disgusted with herself. She had far better control than that – should have far better control – and she’d hurt Linc both mentally and physically this time. Tiredness was no excuse. Hitting him was wholly inexcusable.

The guilt tasted bitter in her mouth as she swallowed. She didn’t deserve to be held like this, cocooned in their caring embrace.

She wasn’t enjoying her dozing so much now that her mind was awake.

 

Lincoln

He’d stayed quiet as May had awoken, shifted slightly and snuggled back into him with a contented little sigh. He didn’t want to do or say the wrong thing without Skye’s mediating influence after the traumas of the evening before.

But the sudden stiffening of her body and rapid attempts to get up out of the bed away from him forced him to intervene. He grabbed for her hand as she hovered half clambered over Skye and she stopped to look at him in surprise. “Come back to bed?” he suggested quietly, hoping that the magical words Skye had used to turn her around would have a similar effect this morning too.

May considered for several long seconds. Long seconds where he felt for sure she was going to shrug him off and leave. But he added a quick “Please?” and she slumped back down into place between them.

He released the breath he’d been holding and wrapped his arms about her to dissuade her from any further attempts at leaving.

 

May

She was happy being held but couldn’t let herself enjoy it whilst clips of her behaviour from the evening before continued to replay at the forefront of her mind. 

She was pleased when Skye broke the monotony by waking, smiling happily and leaning over to press kisses in greeting to each of them. Skye was always a happy morning person.

“Hmmmm... my two favourite people all snuggled up in my bed. What ever shall I do with you both?” she asked herself giggling slightly at the end. She wished she could echo Skye’s delight and indulge in a round of sleepy morning sex but she really wasn’t in the right frame of mind whilst her thoughts rested on the evening before.

Skye kissed her again, more deeply this time, chasing all thought from her mind. Then Skye seemed to remember and pulled back to look at both of them, “I seem to recall that someone owes someone a spanking this morning.” Her statement had been much more tentative than it would have been the day before, as though Skye was putting the suggestion out there expecting it to be flung back in her face. She withheld a sigh. It was her fault that the two of them were treading so carefully. Her behaviour that had caused them to doubt whether she wanted to submit to them now. She wanted them to shout at her for it. To hurt her back for how she’d hurt them. To punish her and absolve her guilt. 

Punish her properly... now _there_ was an idea. She always felt better after she’d been punished for something. The mental anguish seemingly absolved through a little physical pain.

“Will you whip me instead?” she asked quietly, turning slightly so that she could look into Lincoln’s eyes.

“What?!? No!” 

Huh. That was a disappointment she didn’t expect.


	4. Chapter 4

7.35am  
Skye

“Don’t run,” Skye told her pre-emptively. Whilst normally tackling things head on fearlessly, May’s default setting was firmly set to flee it seemed on any incident between the three of them no matter how minor.

May glared at her but she’d rather take that than chase her down the hallways again.

“Explain,” Skye instructed glaring back in her attempt to communicate no nonsense. May sighed, looking between them both. She knew May hated being put on the spot and told to share how she felt about anything... she was either about to dodge the issue or make something up...

“Stop,” Skye said and the relieved glance May shot her way made her certain she’d made the right decision. She hopped quickly out of bed leaving the two of them staring after her wondering and ferreted about in the drawer that held the few toys they compiled to date (most recently dubbed the “Drawer of Wonder” even if it was only her that had so far called it that out loud).

“Ah ha!” she exclaimed wafting the black scarf aloft in explanation. May sat up quickly as she returned bouncing back on to the bed, almost eager for Skye to tie it over her eyes. She tied it round twice to secure it. Then Lincoln pulled May back down to lie wrapped in his arms, letting her head pillow under his chin and Skye tucked in behind. They were slowly working out between the two of them how to make May feel more comfortable opening up to them. She was always much more at ease and willing to answer their light questions just before they nodded off to sleep of an evening, when she was cocooned between them unable to see them with her face hidden from view.

“Now, why do want Lincoln to whip you?” she whispered quietly into May’s ear. 

She felt May start to respond a few times but what she eventually ended up blurting out was “I want you to punish me.”

“We were going to. We told you last night you’d get a spanking,” Lincoln clarified. 

Despite the implication, she knew May wasn’t going to answer unless there was a clear question so she put one out there: “Why do you want a whipping instead of a spanking?”

“I want you to punish me,” May replied without hesitation this time.

“Isn’t a spanking punishment?” she pushed sure she was somewhere near the right tracks now.

“I want you to punish me more,” was the steady reply.

“More now or more generally?” Lincoln pressed – he was cottoning on.

“Now,” May’s quiet voice admitted. Ah, she could see where this was headed... now just to reassure May that they didn’t want to hurt her, that it wasn’t tit for tat in their relationship and she’d realise that they didn’t want to whip her.

“You want us to whip you now so that we hurt you for last night, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted straight up.

Skye rubbed her back soothingly as she started to explain: “Oh pet... we don’t want to hurt you. We’ve already forgiven you for it. We don’t want to spank you or whip you or hurt you at all. I promise we’ll never want to hurt you for something like that.”

Lincoln picked up as she trailed off, “I enjoy spanking you, pet, but I’m not going to spank you just because we had an argument. That’s not what we’re doing here at all. This relationship is for all three of us. I like you being a little bratty and letting me punish you for it but I don’t want you to submit when you don’t want to and I don’t want to hurt you just because we have an argument.”

May was shaking her head as they both spoke but waited for them to finish before she said anything more. “I want you to whip me.”

“We are not going to do that, pet,” she stated it with finality. She wasn’t going to do it just because May wanted _them_ to feel better by hurting her. 

The subject was closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Spoiler Alert (said in true Coulson style) the subject isn't closed!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson to the rescue - AGAIN!

8.56am  
Coulson

He didn’t really know Lincoln well yet so he tracked Skye down instead. Fortunately, she was still in her quarters: typing away frantically on her laptop from her seat at the end of the bed he saw once she’d called for him to come in. 

“So....” he started. It was a great start, a time honoured classic in fact. 

“So?” Skye replied. Ah, yes. A time honoured classic that did have that precise drawback – it was very easy to turn it back around and very quick to do so, which left him none of the time he’d intended his opening to give him to think up how to broach this so very delicate topic of conversation ...well, delicately.

“Sooooooo...” and that really didn’t give him much longer. “So, May came to my office earlier and asked me to whip her.” Well, it might not have been exactly how he’d intended for the conversation to go but at least the damage was now done. Rip off the bandaid they always said right? Cause the hurt as quickly as possible and then sort out all the rest. He really didn’t want to hurt Skye. If May had come to him without asking...

“Ah. She asked Lincoln too but he said no,” Skye put his fears to rest somewhat with her matter of fact attitude in the face of her lover’s attempted betrayal.

“And you?” he asked as he sat down beside her on the edge of the bed. 

“Me?” she asked with an astounded look on her face. “I don’t want to hurt her either!” She even looked insulted by the suggestion and oh, was that so not where he was going with that question.

“What if she wants you to?” he tried to rescue it, tried to get the conversation back on track.

“She doesn’t,” was the short response.

“How do you know?” he pressed. He always pressed. He was used to conversing with spies daily after all. If you didn’t press, you didn’t get any information ever. If you did press, you occasionally got a little and you occasionally got punched. It was a fair deal he thought.

“She doesn’t. She doesn’t like pain that way. She’s not a masochist,” explained Skye as though he was a child that simply had no understanding of the workings of a Melinda May mind. Actually, no one had an understanding of the workings of a Melinda May mind, not even May! So, maybe that wasn’t so much of an insult. But really she didn’t need to say it in such a condescending tone. He knew what May liked. Intimately. But oh now was really _really_ not the right time to remind Skye of that fact!

Instead he went for a doubtful “She’s not? So, why do you think she asked Lincoln to whip her?” 

He aims and he scores! He could almost see Skye thinking, probably re-evaluating every encounter with May before she stated much less certain: “No, she’s not.” Even less confident: “She’s not.” Followed by the ever doubtful: “She isn’t, is she?”

He snorted slightly. “Not as far as I’m aware, no. She might enjoy a little pain with her play but I think that’s more due to the control than it is the pain itself,” he confirmed. It was a little mean to play with her after all.

“Good. Good. That’s what I thought.”

“So...? Why do you think she wanted Lincoln to whip her?” he tried again.

“We had an argument yesterday.”

“I know.” Of course he knew. The whole base bloody knew! They’d all conveniently disappeared on urgent business elsewhere when news of a Melinda May with a death glare that may actually be proven fatal started doing the rounds. It was just his unfortunate luck that he was both her superior officer, and therefore obligated to deal with her, and that he was her best friend, and therefore obligated to deal with her.

“Of course you do because nothing in our lives is ever private from you!” Skye said exasperated.

“May was upset. She’s my best friend Skye,” he reassured her. Yes, he did know a lot more about their lives, especially their sex lives, than he wanted to but May was his best friend and he was pretty sure that he was the only one she ever talked to about anything like that.

Skye’s shoulders slumped in a brief sigh – gah! Now he’d got her sighing too. “I know. And I am glad you’re there for her really. Even if you do end up knowing far too much!” Far far too much his mind supplied.

“So, you had an argument, or rather May and Lincoln did, and then?” he tried to get them back on track.

“He said he’d spank her for it this morning and she asked if he’d whip her instead.”

“and why do you think she asked that, Skye?” God, any more of this pulling teeth and he was employing Andrew full time as base counsellor to manage May’s relationships for her. He nearly laughed out loud at that ridiculous thought – wouldn’t that be something to see: May’s ex husband trying to coach May’s current Doms into a happy D/s threesome relationship with a little assistance from her best friend and sometimes fuck buddy. Gah, were they messed up! Oh, but Skye was answering him so he had probably better listen.

“She obviously feels guilty about the argument and she’s trying to make Lincoln feel better by hurting her,” Skye explained with a slightly puzzled frown.

“And do you think Lincoln will feel better from hurting May?” he asked in his most counsellor Andrew like patient (and mostly annoying!) tone.

“Of course not!”

“And you read Lincoln pretty well don’t you?”

“Yeeeessss...”

“And May reads people pretty well wouldn’t you say?”

“Why do I get the feeling you already know where this conversation is heading?” Skye sniped at him but he ignored her counsellor Andrew style and pressed forwards with his own questions.

“May reads people well? Understands their motivations pretty well?”

“Yes. Of course.” Skye was weakening now, frustration with his continued interrogation lacing her tone.

“You think she knows Lincoln well? Nearly as well as you do?”

“Yes,” monosyllabic, he had a feeling Skye knew exactly where he was going with this conversation now. Knew but was pretty much helpless to re-direct him off course.

“So, does May really think Lincoln will feel better after hurting her? Or do you think maybe May will feel better after Lincoln hurts her?” he asked gently, begging her to make the connections he had and just understand a little more where maybe May was coming from.

“What?” Skye sounded startled. Huh, maybe she hadn’t known where the conversation was headed after all. Fancy that.

“May’s feeling guilty Skye,” he started off patiently, compassion and understanding suffusing his voice. “She’s not offering her back to be whipped because she thinks Lincoln wants to hurt her or even in some bizarre tit for tat. She’s opened up to the two of you to ask for your help to assuage the guilt she’s feeling.”

“She doesn’t need to feel guilty. We’ve forgiven her,” Skye explained to him emphasising it with her expression and a hand to his leg.

“She has your forgiveness, Skye, but she hasn’t forgiven herself yet.”

“That’s ridiculous.” And they were back to pulling teeth again! How did he end up in this situation again? Ah yes, May. Superior. Friend. Obligated to deal with it. And no, couldn’t delegate it to Andrew as messy ex-husband, new threesome issues.

He sighed. 

“Okay, maybe. But let me put it this way: Skye, when have you ever known May to open up and ask the two of you for anything she actually wants?” he tried.

“I’ll talk to Lincoln.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Hunter & Morse snippet

9.07am  
Lincoln

“Mate, you need to take care of your girl,” one of these days he was going to stop being surprised by voices greeting him with such shocking words as he entered what he’d assumed would be an empty room. Damned superspies!

“Wa-huh?” he’s always eloquent when taken by surprise don’t you know.

“I said: you need to take care of your girl. You know the one – approximately yay high (Hunter gestures lower than his shoulder and he’s almost insulted on her behalf) in killer heels, yay high without (now he is insulted on her behalf... but it is pretty accurate), asian descent, dark hair, can kill you in your sleep eyes...” Hunter rambles on. He’d probably keep rambling if not interrupted.

He interrupts: “I know the one. What’s the problem?” He leans against the wall of his quarters, directly opposite where Hunter is leaning against the other wall. His arms fold of their own volition. He’s not feeling defensive honest.

“She’s poaching on my territory,” Hunter exclaims, pushing off from the wall and throwing his arms up in the air in emphasis.

“What?”

Hunter says it slowly, over enunciating each words as though he’s dim-witted: “She’s poaching on my territory.” It makes no more sense the second time around either. His blank face must clue hunter in on the communication problem though because suddenly he’s explaining, all rushed and rambling again and Jesus does that man never think about what’s coming out of his mouth when he’s on a role?! He’s catching approximately every third word of it and he’s still not sure exactly what Hunter’s rambling about other than its something to do with May and the gym and its really _really_ got him wound up.

“She’s trying to steal Bobbi!” Hunter finally yells at him. Ah. That makes far more sense than whatever his mind had been concocting from the mangle of words he’d picked up. But oh, actually that makes far less sense.

“What?!” is his succinct reply. He feels he’s said very little so far in this conversation – is it still even a conversation if one party is ranting at the other leaving only occasional pauses for a ‘what’ before continuing on?

“May was coming onto Bobbi. In the gym. Whilst they were training. And it is soooo not on!” Hunter clarifies and he’s having trouble believing it. Sure, May is upfront about sex and would have no difficulty propositioning anyone but... Bobbi? All long legged blonde haired wonder girl really... doesn’t... well, seem like her type. At least, he hopes she’s not. Although... the idea of May and Bobbi... together... in the gym all sweaty - nope, do not go there brain!

Plus, they’re in a relationship. Definitely in a relationship. They’ve not been seeing anyone else. Well, he’s certainly not been seeing anyone else. He’s pretty sure Skye and May haven’t either – they spend every evening together. Even if they were so inclined, when would they seriously have had the time?

“Explain,” he instructs Hunter knowing that there must be something more to this tale, “succinctly,” he adds because its Hunter and because its really damn important that he understands what comes out of his mouth next. He needs to know if May is really leaving him. Needs to know now, before the crack in his heart at the thought actually breaks open.

“May and Bobbi. Fighting.” And bless Hunter he even does a little charades sketch air punching and weaving just in case he doesn’t understand what fighting is.

“Fighting?” he asks concerned.

“Alright, training then. But they’re both bloody vicious when they go at it and-”

“Then what happened?” he asks, he’s gotta keep Hunter on track.

“Then Bobbi slams her to the ground with this wicked move, it’s all like ca-pow, bang and May is just down!” Hunter enthuses, his seeming upset forgotten in the retelling. “and then Bobbi’s pinning her and May just ups and says ‘Do you Top?’ I mean _really_! ‘Do you Top!’ That’s what she asks _my_ girlfriend!”

“Girlfriend?” he interjects but he’s ignored. Hunter is back on a roll again.

“I bet she planned it all out. Get Bobbi all hot and bothered. Check. Wrestle around a bit rubbing up against one another. Check. Let Bobbi pin her to the mats so that she can writhe about under her. Check.”-

“writhing?!”

-“then hit her with the mezma stare, lick those sexy little lips, roll those big doe eyes up at her and whisper in that oh so sexy voice ‘do you Top!’” Hunter pauses for a moment breathing heavily. He thinks both of their minds have possibly now gone to the same happy place with thoughts of a submissive May looking up at Bobbi with desire before asking her to Top. 

But, hey, Hunter should not be dreaming about his May like that. She’s his. (He neglects to consider that he probably ought not to be thinking about Bobbi like that if Hunter’s not allowed to think about May).

Hunter seems to break away from the daydream at a similar time as he does, continuing with an “Argh! Its just not on mate. Its just not!”

“I think you might be reading a little too much into this...”

“How? Go on, how? How could I be reading too much into the fact that your girlfriend pretty much had sex with my girlfriend on the gym floor! Go on, how are you explaining that away?” Hunter rants getting progressively louder.

“Sounds like May just asked Bobbi if she did ever take up a dominant role...”

“Yeah but why, mate. Why ask her that if she didn’t intend to use the information?” Hunter asks in a much more conversational tone and it sets his mind to thinking like it was probably intended to do so. “If you can’t give her what she needs, she’s gonna look somewhere else...”

“I think I need to talk to May.” And Skye. Actually, he needed to talk to Skye first.

 

9.23am  
Hunter

He flung the door open with a flourish, waltzing back into their quarters with a cocky swing in his step, swept fair maiden up off the bed onto her feet before kissing her soundly.

“I am amazing,” he declared to her once they broke apart.

“You are?” Bobbi asks with a raised eyebrow and a smirk but he’s too damned pleased with himself to pick up that potential criticism and banter it about with her.

“I am,” he states, “I most definitely am.”

“I take it your talk with Lincoln went well?” Bobbi clarifies teasing him as he strikes a superhero pose for her appreciation.

“It did. I think he’s racing off just as we speak to go find May and give her the loving she needs. And its all because I ... am ... amazing,” he tells her.

“So, he believed you when you told him that May made an advance on you?” she asks, trying to draw out more of the details than simply that he is amazing he presumes. He shakes his head in wonder, she’s supposed to be the superspy. No one is going to believe that May approached him out of nowhere and asked him to top her.

“No, he believed me when I told him that May propositioned _you.”_


	7. Chapter 7

11.58am  
Lincoln

He’d looked practically everywhere when he eventually crashed into her. Literally crashed into her – they both turned a corner in a hurry and well… crash! Really someone should have thought right angled turned in corridors through properly. There was no way to see who was coming round the corner until well … until they were actually coming round the corner! Frankly, now that he thought about it he was surprised that there weren’t more corner based collisions given the absurdity of turning round a blind corner so often. There was a design that needed a rethink.

He was still thinking about building designs and corners and whether they should actually install little mirrors so that people could see danger coming as they headed towards a corner, so Skye was the one to start their conversation “Linc?” He never said she started verbosely! 

“Skye?” He didn’t ask because he’d any doubt that it was her – he could see her. Had seen her up close and personal very recently thanks to that stupidly dangerous corner. But it was polite to check after she’d checked he was him. Standard greeting courtesy.

“Oh thank God I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” If only she’d known he was around a dangerous corner. Enough with the bloody corners now!

“Looking for me? I’ve been scouring this base trying to find you!”

“You two are failing your sub. Sort it or someone will do it for you!” Jesus Christ Bobbi scared the life out of him! Sure she was all ‘call me Bobbi’ and bouncing happy blonde curls but underneath that there was a BAMF that could probably kill him a hundred different ways without breaking a sweat and probably without remorse unless she got blood on the carpet. Sometimes he wondered if surrounding himself with all these people who could easily kill him was really a good idea…

They were both a little gobsmacked as Bobbi flounced on past, curls a bouncing, after dropping that bombshell on them from out of nowhere, so neither really responded other than his slight gurgle. He thinks Skye’s jaw may actually have dropped. Cartoon style.

“And that ‘someone’ will be me!” Bobbi called over her shoulder. And oh my God wasn’t that an image that he could drool over – two hot deadly superspies like Bobbi and May trying to top one another… he wondered if May would let her…

“And probably Hunter… he’d definitely like a shot at May!” Bobbi called back to them as she turned the dangerous corner. Oh no way in HELL! And urgh, Hunter and sex was a sickening enough thought. Hunter and sex with his May involved was… practically vomit inducing! 

“We need to speak to May,” he said to Skye or to himself – he wasn’t really sure it mattered.

“Uh huh,” she agreed, still with mouth gaping open slightly in her stunned fish face expression.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

12noon  
Skye

She phoned May because it was easier than the two of them searching throughout the base again.

“Skye,” was May’s succinct acknowledgement.

“Hey, its me,” she said and wasn’t that the most ridiculous thing to say like ever – May already knew it was her she had a customised ring tone (‘Bad Touch’ of course and she’d locked it so May couldn’t change it –she’d never had her calls answered so quickly ;) ), the phone would have logged who was calling before May answered AND May had just answered saying ‘Skye’ therefore clearly aware that it was her.

Fortunately, May didn’t seem inclined to point any of that out – she just stayed silent waiting for her to continue.

“So, erm... where are you?”

“Why?” May really doesn’t waste words.

“Because... we, that is Linc and I, well... we kinda want to talk... need to actually. Yes, we need to talk with you and so we thought we’d come find you but well I don’t know if you’ve noticed but this base is pretty big and we’ve just spent like hours trying to find each other-” the phone was removed from her hand. “Ruuuuude,” she told Linc, because of course he had lifted it from her.

“Meet us in our quarters in say ten minutes?” he asked the phone. 

“I was getting to that,” she tells him gesturing and grumbling about his phone theft. He hangs up the phone. “Well...?” she demands when he says nothing. 

“She just hung up,” he says and he sounds surprised. Maybe even a little hurt. He’s obviously not used to May telephone behaviour.

“That’s a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ in May terms – she doesn’t feel the need to bother with an answer when the answer is obvious.”


	8. Chapter 8

12.08pm  
May

They were both waiting for her when she arrived despite only seven minutes having passed of their imposed deadline. Both were sat nervously on the edge of their... _Skye’s_ bed.

“I don’t have long,” she told them as soon as she entered. It was a lie. 

She was still angry that they’d simply overruled her wishes. They’d treated her like a child that morning, a foolish kid who didn’t know what was best for her so better let the adults make all the decisions. Quite frankly it was insulting.

Coulson’s response to her request only fuelled the fire of her upset – better ask mommy and daddy if the kid can play out. Well, the ‘kid’ had her own bloody mind!

“We wanted to talk to you about... well...” Skye started, wringing her hands. For such a sassy demanding Domme she was ridiculously young about some things.

“About whipping. We want to talk to you about whipping,” Linc broke in to conclude. His voice carried tension. He was rubbish at concealing his emotional state.

She raised an eyebrow only. They wanted to talk, had demanded her presence here, so they should talk. After this morning, she really wasn’t in the mood to make this easy for them.

“Skye thinks-” Linc starts.  
“Hey, you think it too. Don’t put this on me,” Skye interrupts.  
“ _We_ think that maybe we got the wrong end of the stick this morning.”

“I really don’t have time for this,” she says and makes a move towards the door she’s just entered. She doesn’t need to hear more of this from them – doesn’t want her wants brushed over, doesn’t need the patronising explanation that whipping will hurt her, doesn’t need the implication that wanting a whipping is wrong, and she certainly doesn’t need them to tell her that she doesn’t know her own mind!

“Argh! Will you stop bloody leaving every time we want to talk to you?! Its getting ridiculous! You’re an adult, we’re in an adult relationship, act like it!” Lincoln is on his feet and shouting before she’s taken a step. He’s volatile but he’s never been this on edge before. Its good that he’s angry. She’s angry too.

“An adult relationship,” she asks him quietly without turning to face him. If he had any training or even any instinctual concept of danger he’d be retreating at that carefully blank tone.

“Linc, I think-” Skye’s trying to reel him back in. Always the peace maker between them. Its getting tiresome. Skye needs to leave them be - they need to have this out.

“Yes, an _adult_ relationship. As in, one where we adults deal with issues and talk about things in an _adult_ way,” Lincoln’s still shouting at her back. He’s a fool. She could take him out in seconds, powers or no powers. 

And just that thought stops her in stride.

She can’t believe she just thought that – she’d never want to hurt Linc. No, she can believe it - she’s already hit him after all. She’s a monster. She’s disgusted with herself.

He’s still talking, ranting, but she speaks anyway and he pauses to hear what she’s saying.  
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly, but its a different kind of quiet from before. Its an exhausted quiet, a guilty quiet... 

It stops him in his tracks faster than she’d thought possible. “No, I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She knows he should have. They need to get some of this out if they’re to work past it.

“Can we all sit down if you’ve both finished?” Skye ventures, waving at the empty bed and the occasional chair in the corner.

Suddenly she doesn’t want that distance between them, any distance between them. So she’s not beating around the bush when she takes Skye’s arm, pulling her up off the edge of the bed and manhandling her up to the head of the bed. She ignores the questioning expressions being levelled at her as she returns to pull Lincoln, a little more tentatively perhaps, across and pushes him to sit down next to Skye. Then she pushes his shoulders, encouraging him to shuffle backwards to lean back against the headboard. She smiles once he’s positioned satisfactorily, toeing off her boots and sitting up against his side, drawing her feet up sideways. His arm comes up around her shoulders almost automatically. Then she pulls Skye back to lean against her. It takes Skye a bit more shuffling but soon they’re all cosy, snuggled into one another sitting up on the bed. She sighs inwardly – this is much better – closes her eyes and just enjoys the moment. She might have sighed outwardly too.

“Comfy?” a happy Skye smirks at her. 

It doesn’t require an answer. The answer is obvious.

 

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Skye

“Can we all talk now?” she dares to ask. Its fine all this snuggling – ok so fine is so not the word – but at some point they are going to have to address the herd of elephants dancing a jig in pink tutus in the corner of the room.

“Okay. We all apologise and we all make promises never to do it again,” May takes charge from her cosy nest between the two of them. May doesn’t say a lot so when she does it’s usually worth hearing. She and Lincoln both confirm their agreement and all three apologise at once. It makes them all smile, releases some of the tension from the morning. They needed it.

She really doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, to potentially set them to fighting again but something needs to be said. They need to sort this.

“You asked Linc to whip you this morning...” she starts tentatively, but it’s not a question and May doesn’t answer non-questions. “Why did you ask that?”

“Because I wanted him to whip me,” May gives her the expected answer and she hears Linc echo her sigh. They really don’t need to go down this route again. It’s frustrating as all hell trying to play twenty questions with a spy who can talk circles round anyone but says very little. May sighs too. Then she continues, it’s unexpected that she decides to share but maybe she’s a little fed up of their fights too. “I asked to be whipped because I wanted to be whipped. Not for you or for Lincoln. I wanted to be whipped for me. And I wanted you two to be the ones to do it.”

“And when we said no, you went to Coulson?” Lincoln asks and there’s a little too much accusation in his tone for her to be entirely happy that May will answer but at least now May will understand now the source of his upset.

“I went to Coulson, yes. I was angry that the two of you were ignoring me, belittling my opinion and my wants so I asked him to whip me instead.”

“You’d sleep with someone else to punish us for not listening to you?” Linc accuses and she can see that they’re headed straight back to an argument. She tries to head it off by interrupting but May is furious. The angriest she’s ever seen her so she hesitates.

“I never!” May is hissing down at Lincoln from her position now above him. Her eyes are blazing at him, body poised, violence contained. She’s beautiful. Breathtakingly deadly in an instant. “I _never_ asked him to fuck me. Never.” 

She can see Linc’s a little taken aback by that. To be fair, she’d assumed the same too. Assumed that whipping and sex went hand in hand.

“I asked him to whip me not to fuck me,” May finishes and she can see the loosening of tension throughout her body as she realises from Linc’s expression that maybe he hadn’t made that basic connection. That maybe this is a genuine mistake.

“You don’t want to fuck him?” Linc’s hesitant in asking it despite the clear statements May’s just made.

“No!” May says in exasperation as she flings herself to lie down on her back on the bed. She bounces slightly as she lands and reminds her of a sulky teenager. It’s a thought she must never ever share on pain of death. Ever!

“You just wanted him to whip you?” Linc asks cautious of the beast now lying next to them but still willing to pester it for the confirmation, the reassurance he now needs.

“Yes,” it’s said through gritted teeth. She interrupts before Linc can ask the beas-May! anymore stupid questions and possibly start up another argument.

“So, you asked us to whip you and we said no. Then you went to Coulson to whip you and he said...?” she prompts gently.

“He asked me if I’d spoken to you about it and I left,” May tells her. It’s factual but she’s picking up a little hint of resentment there.

“So, you asked Bobbi to whip you-” Linc starts but he’s interrupted almost immediately.

“What, no!”

“Then why does Hunter say you did?”

“Hunter has a nasty mind,” May growls, her opinion of Hunter is not overly high.

“Then why does Bobbi think she’s going to take care of you if we don’t stand up?”

“What? What did Bobbi say?” May leaps on it. Her opinion of Hunter isn’t high but her opinion of Bobbi Morse certainly is.

“Bobbi said, and I quote, ‘you two need to take better care of your sub or someone else is going to’ and ‘I’ll be that someone’,” Skye smirks at her, relaxed now that she knows it’s never going to happen.

The slight upwards turn of May’s mouth is as much as a beaming smile from anyone else. That she follows it with a small almost silent chuckle is proof of how relaxed she’s become in their company – she doesn’t let herself laugh much in front of others.

“You want to explain what’s going on? Did you ask Bobbi if she Tops?”

May chuckles again lightly before looking up to meet their eyes in turn. “Yes,” is all May answers and she’s almost certain that their mouths have probably dropped open to catch flies. May laughs at them again before expanding upon her answer much to their combined relief. “I also asked Bobbi if she’d ever subbed and asked for her advice on how to get the two of you to understand that I wanted to be whipped. That I wanted you two to whip me. But that I wanted it for me.”

Ahhhh. Her relieved sigh is echoed to her right. Not that either of them ever thought she’d go after Bobbi... or Coulson... not really... ok so maybe they are a little insecure.

 

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May

Their questions are ridiculous. Ridiculous and repetitive. But if it’s what they need to go through to reassure themselves that this is what she wants then she’ll keep answering. Even if it takes them all afternoon to get there.

“Won’t it hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“Well... won’t it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“What we’re trying to say is... why do you want us to hurt you?”

“It’s... it’s difficult to explain.”

“Try.” “Please.”

She thinks about it for a few minutes. How best to communicate it to them. There’s no way without their being in her place when it happens. But she’ll try.

“Its like... all the craziness just stops for an instant. Like everything that hurts in here, all the guilt all the pain all the worries just melt away. Chased away. Like I’m forgiven for everything and there’s nothing to worry about anymore. I... I don’t know how else to explain it,” she confesses. It’s not the words that have them convinced but her face, as if simply recollecting such a time has brought peace to her, her expression softens, lips smiling and eyes bright, innocent and childlike for a brief period as she speaks. Then she sighs and the mirage melts away as she focuses back on them, almost embarrassed to have shared something so intimate.

“And if we whip you, you’ll feel better?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“And you really want this?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure that you’re sure?”

“Ye-es.” Her patience is running thin.

“Because I really don’t want us to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“And you really are certain that you need this? That it’ll make you feel better?”

“Yes.”

Linc exhales long and low before he gives his answer. “Okay,” is all he says. She barely dares hope. She knew the conversation was heading this way but she hadn’t consciously allowed herself to believe that he’d be okay with it.

“Okay?” Skye asks him direct, intense eyes trying to read his own.

“Yeah. Okay,” Lincoln confirms and she lets herself smile.

Okay.


	9. Chapter 9

8.12pm  
May

She’d been standing for a while now completely isolated whilst she presumed they discussed the scene behind her. They’d all three obviously had some discussion about how it would go down before she’d been summoned to appear in Coulson’s office as once they’d let her in they’d worked quickly in concert to get her undressed and position facings her against the blank wall. Her arms had been raised to either side and tied off above her head somewhere, leaving her standing comfortably enough with her feet flat to the ground. She knew then that this was likely to be a long session. But that was what she needed.

She hoped that the three of them here together meant they were on board with Coulson whipping her. She didn’t want to drive a wedge between the three of them by asking for something outside their relationship but she needed this. She needed the pain. The mindlessness. The absolution of it.

She’d become used to using physical pain as a means to escape her mind. It hurt but it calmed her thoughts, let her just exist uncomplicated.

Coulson had taken the lead immediately, turning her face to let him stare into her eyes, confirming for himself that she wanted this before taking it any further. “Your masters have brought you to me to be punished. Do you accept their punishment?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied on rote - he was a dominant requiring of respect in this instance but he was not her master.

“You _will_ tell me when it is enough,” he instructs firmly, emphasising his expectation with his eyes boring into hers, and with that wording he confirms his knowledge of why she is being punished. He knows that her masters have brought her to be punished not because they want her punished but because she wants it. Because she needs the absolution. He always knows her so well, understands her mind better than she does.

“Yes, sir,” she confirms with a slight smile and she will. Once her mind has quieted, once she feels she has paid a price for her transgressions, once her guilt is assuaged, she will stop him.

He nods, satisfied, and steps back out of sight whilst her masters check on her. Lincoln looks... uncomfortable but its Skye’s slightly glossy eyes that nearly have her calling the whole thing off. She hadn’t thought that this would affect them so much. Its her being hurt not them after all. But she can’t put them through this if they don’t want to be there. “I’m sorry, I-” her lips are taken in a kiss before she can get the rest of the apology out. Skye. She’s always impulsive. As Skye breaks the kiss she goes to explain again that they don’t have to do this but a finger pressed across her lips asking for her silence holds her tongue for her. 

“If you need this then we’ll give it to you,” Linc clarifies, “You don’t do this without us _ever._ ” The last is a little harsh, he’s still a little upset she went to Coulson then. She’s sorry for that too. Hopefully after all of this she can stop being sorry. He strokes down the side of her face and she turns her head into him, nuzzling her cheek into the palm of his hand, apologising and thanking him in the only way she’s currently permitted. He presses a chaste kiss to her lips before stepping back with a look of longing that she doesn’t let herself think further upon. They need to get on with this before she calls it all off for them.

Skye blindfolds her swiftly, emphasising her safewords. She’s worrying for nothing. There is no enemy here. Only friends. She trusts Coulson with her life, with far more than that. She trusts him absolutely. And even if she didn’t, she trusts the two of them to intervene if she needs it.

Losing her sight is something she’s very comfortable with. She enjoys herself immensely when she’s unable to see what’s coming. The slight vulnerability that comes alongside being unable to defend herself when she can’t anticipate a strike sets her heart to racing, adrenaline flooding her body heightening sensation. She shivers slightly as she thinks on it but only moments later a hot palm is stroking slowing down her spine, reassuring her even when she hasn’t asked.

She stands firm.

Then there is drawing – she’s been used as a canvas before so she can identify the strange slightly wet drag of a marker pen across her back. The design he’s sketching, she assumes it’s Coulson anyway, is unusual – straight sharp lines, abruptly finishing rather than the continuous swirls he usually prefers to decorate her with. It is only as he finishes with a few more brisk strokes that she understands the involvement of the pen – he’s mapped out roughly the position of her spine, shoulder blades and ribs, scribbling out small sections covering her kidneys and coccyx with a few inches of grace. 

From the marking out of the main areas across her back she presumed Skye and Lincoln are about to get their first lesson on whipping safely.

 

The smiley face on her right ass cheek, however, is not quite so instructional!


	10. Whipping times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N this is fanfiction. It is fantasy not fact. Please do not go whipping anyone or lining yourself up to receive a whipping based on what you find in this or any other fanfiction. If you want to go down that road do some research from factual sources, seek professional guidance and go take a training course or three!

Coulson  
He really is the best friend in the world, he’s thinking to himself.

He’s here with a naked May all tied up who’s been pretty much begging for a whipping all day and he’s using it as an opportunity to train her Doms rather than to enjoy himself. He’s pretty sure that there will be no enjoying himself in this session at all given the glares that Lincoln is still giving him when he doesn’t think he’s looking. 

May is going to owe him big time for this one.

Or maybe… yeah, they probably just about even with this one. Ok so he’ll still owe her after this one. He’ll still owe her after this one and probably after many many more. Sheeesh, even his brain is starting to sound like May on him.

“So,” classic opening, he nearly smiles before pulling himself back into lecture mode. “There’s various ways to flog someone. Different tools, different strokes. Generally, there seems to be two processes if you like: you could choose to go for a gentle warm up with a soft flogger building up steadily to raise the endorphins or you can dive right in and overwhelm.”

“We’ll start slow and build up this time.” He hears May’s groan but chooses to ignore it this time. He’s busy teaching right now and he can’t be dealing with the complexity of working out who is going to punish May when she’s bratting given that her two Doms have just completely ignored her rudeness but he feels like he’ll be stepping on toes to call her to task. “It’ll give you more opportunity to see the lighter side and we can build up-” May groans again and he can’t ignore the disrespect a second time no matter who’s toes he might be stepping on. 

“Excuse me,” he says to Lincoln and Skye with a slight bow of courtesy. 

They’re both looking at him wide eyed, as though he’s just proclaimed his intention to flay skin from bones rather than excuse himself. As he strides towards May he can feel Lincoln shadowing him. He keeps half his attention on the figure behind him, he doesn’t know the guy that well and if a blow is about to come his way he wants to be ready to duck it. He pulls May’s blindfold up to her forehead, turning her head and looking directly into her blinking eyes. The slight twitch of her lips says she knows what she’s done. Knowing May as he does she might even have done it deliberately to get his attention. Make that she’s definitely done it deliberately.

“Problem?” he asks her feigning concern.

“Just getting a little bored of all the talking, sir,” she smarms back at him.

“We can’t have that now, can we?” he asks rhetorically. “Leg,” he says and offers his cupped hands for her to place her ankle into. She does so, shifting her balance to compensate for the fact that she is now balancing uncomfortably on one foot with her arms outstretched and hardly any use to assisting her maintaining her balance. He smiles. She should know better than to push him.

He slips a loop of rope around the ankle he holds, then manhandles her so that he leg is stuck out behind her with knee bent rather than up to the side of her. “Hold this please,” he asks Lincoln, passing her foot across like it’s just an object he needs holding. He throws the other end of the rope high, up and over the ceiling girder. Little bit smug he got it to sail over first time in front of them too. Then he just pulls it taught. 

Flexible as May is she’s still forced into an uncomfortable stretch, head pulled back and back arched to an extreme position with her leg pulled upwards into a forced scorpion type stance. She’s not quite hanging from the three limbs, her body’s weight remains supported upon the one leg left in contact with the ground. If she overbalances then she risks strain either on her arms or her raised leg. Her face shows that her concentration is definitely being taken up trying to balance on that one leg. 

“Are you still bored, because I can find something else to entertain you?” he asks with a smile. He’s generous like that.

“No, sir,” she responds. It’s strained and a little bit sulky but he’s letting it go for now.

“Good,” he says shortly then pulls the blindfold roughly down over her nose stuffing it into her mouth as she opens compliantly. “Behave or I’ll get you a ball gag.”

He walks back to where Skye is still stood. She’s watching the proceedings with a look of fascination and he’s reminded that this is the first relationship she’s had in the scene. They’ve probably not got adventurous yet with bindings. Lincoln follows him after a few moments during which he assumes Lincoln is checking May is safe enough maintaining her balance.

“So, where were we?”

“Is she ok balancing like that?” Skye asks him a little concerned. “She’s not going to fall is she?”

“Don’t worry, May has excellent balance and if she loses balance a little the restraints are taught enough that she won’t cause an injury as she regains it,” he explains to reassure her. She really is quite innocent to be trying to top May. Trying and succeeding his mind supplies.

“Before we were rudely interrupted, I was explaining that we’d start off easy, warm her up a bit, and build up to a bit more. This,” he says pulling out a short fabric flogger with many inch wide straps, “is quite a gentle flogger. It doesn’t hurt particularly. It’s more a sudden shock of impact rather than painful. Used enough it’ll bring out a nice blush across her skin.” He had planned to move onto a demonstration but May could do with hanging for a while longer. May likes to jump in to the harder stuff quickly. She’s no patience for the gentle build. If she’s down a little before he starts she’ll be far more likely to take the gentle teasing of the soft flogger quietly. He doesn’t need her sassing him when he’s trying to take it slow and easy to show these two how it’s done. So, he takes them through the other two whips he’s got out for this occasion. He admits to himself that he chose the single 8 braid bullwhip mainly to show off. He is considered to be an excellent master of so precise an instrument. It’ll be a pleasure to wield it upon a sub again.

 

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He’s in no particular hurry but he soon runs out of things to say. There’s only so much one can say about the path of a whip as it arcs through the air and only so much one can glean without demonstration.

The three of them walk back across the room to where May is steadily shaking, her muscles protesting at the continued holding of such an extreme position. He walks straight up to her face. She’s squeezed her eyes shut to better concentrate but they fly open at his approach, locking onto his own to convey her apology. “Something to say, pet?” he asks with a smile. He knows the loose fabric held in her mouth doesn’t really prevent her from speaking. It’s a symbol, a reminder only of his command… and his threat. 

She nods once quickly and he removes it, letting the damp fabric drop down to rest against the hollow of her neck. She licks her lips before speaking. “Sorry, sir,” she says and she is contrite. He’s not a fool to believe it’ll last. 

He nods his acceptance of her apology before stepping back to untie her ankle. He holds it in hand as the rope is released, supporting it as he gradually lowers it to the floor, he doesn’t want her hurt. “After binding her in an extreme position, you should always take care in releasing your sub so that she’s not injured when her muscles are suddenly unbound. Rub and massage her leg muscles for me before we move on?” he asks them. They’re eager to get involved or perhaps eager to put off the intended flogging that is to come.

 

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“You want to avoid any strikes to these sections to avoid causing serious injury. Your best target for beginning is her ass. In this case it’s a small target but proximity will make is easier for you to be accurate despite that,” he explains before breaking off with a sigh because May is interrupting them again, this time chuckling lightly to herself. “Problem, May?” 

“Sorry, sir. Just could help but notice you were complaining about the size of my ass,” she says lightly. God she’s a brat! If he weren’t concerned with training and with introducing both of them gently to the world of whips then he’d have cracked her by now.

“Is she always this gobby with you two?” he asks both out of interest and in an attempt to give them a hint that they really should be controlling their sub better.

“More,” Lincoln says depreciatingly.

“I am not!” May snipes back at him.

“Point,” marks Skye and he gets the impression that this sniping is also common between them.

“Oh wise, Masters and Sir, I apologise for my poor behaviour and accept whatsoever punishment you decree necessary to atone for my mistakes,” May starts off a little too sarcastically with her retort but it quickly turns into a respectful apology.

“Adequate,” he tells May before addressing the two Doms. “She won’t thank you for going easy on her, you know. May likes the fight, she likes to be taken to task, controlled and overwhelmed.” They both go to interrupt him but he waves The Finger of DoomTM and they fall silent. “It’s just something to think about.” It’s more than something to think about – they need to look after his friend properly, she won’t be happy with them pussyfooting around for long.

“I tell you what, she’s obviously not in the mood to co-operate right now so what say we just move straight on to her punishment?” he asks, he thought rhetorically. The mixture of answers he gets from all three of them leave him wondering whether he is supposed to be in charge of this scene after all!

“Enough!” he almost shouts and the three fall silent. “We’re here for her. We’re here because she needs to be punished and she’s asked you two to bring her to me so that she can be. We’ve agreed this?” The two slightly abashed doms nod at him. “Good,” he says with finality and moves back to pick up the single tail with familiar reverence. “You two need to stand aside.”

 

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Lincoln

Coulson is a master at his craft.

It’s obvious even to a novice like himself. It’s as though he’s shed his formal shell as he removes his suit jacket and tie. He’s a master ready to get down to business as he turns back to face them, unbuttoning cufflinks and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

He’s reverent as he caresses the lash in his hands, as he examines it closely by touch and sight, checking the leather for cracks or damage, flexing it slightly before smoothing it through his palm. It’s an intimidating weapon lovingly caressed by its master’s hands.

There’s an almost ceremony to the start as Coulson runs the coiled lash gently over her skin, sweeps it down in long calming strokes from her shoulder to the bottom of her buttocks then back again. It’s soothing almost. Caring where he’d presumed there would be none. The whip is presented to her face and her head lowers to kiss the tool of her punishment almost reverently. He can’t hear what is said between them in oh so quiet whispers but he doesn’t need to hear the words to know their meaning.

The first lash strikes both after he’d believed it would and far in advance of when he thought. It’s an impressive hit. He almost surprised by Coulson’s skill until he remembers that this is a man who prides himself on being unassuming and underestimated therefore. The whip flies up high into the air before the tail end flicks out suddenly. He’s not sure he even sees it land but he hears May’s sharp gasp, sees the small red stripe bisecting the smiley face drawn on her ass.

He’s watching May as the second strike falls, hoping to see it actually land. It’s so swift he almost doesn’t despite his concentration. There’s only the small thwap and May’s accompanying inhale in time with the black blur that convinces him he did see the strike. The red line that blossoms is in even line to the last hit. The precision is amazing. He wonders idly how many hours Coulson has spent perfecting his technique. How many times it has been May under his lash.

He doesn’t feel the jealousy he expects to feel at that thought. He’s spent all day feeling jealous and angry. He’s not sure why now, when they’re actually down to it, he doesn’t feel that overpowering rage at Coulson touching his May. Maybe it’s the lack of sexual components to it. May had assured him that a whipping wasn’t sexual but he’d still possessed that niggling doubt. Or maybe it’s just that he’s swept up in it, in watching the lash as it rips overhead, in waiting for the red to blossom on another area, waiting for the gasp, the groan that says May’s feeling everything. That she’s giving everything, all of herself over to the lash, to her punishment.

It’s almost beautiful.

 

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Skye

They’ve promised that they won’t intervene.

That was one condition Coulson wanted them to think over, wanted them to be certain they could do before they went any further. They weren’t to intervene. They had promised him that. Assured him they could stand there and watch only. It was easy enough to promise, easy enough to say the words in the light of day when the hurt to be caused was only a figment of her imagination.

But now, watching as May screams over a sore throat and dances to try to avoid the next blows in an attempt that has no chance of succeeding... 

Now... she’s not sure she can.

 

It’s taking everything she has to remain standing. Watching. She feels every strike as though she’s there, in May’s place. She can’t imagine... 

She can feel the tears gathering in her own eyes. She’s not sure she can keep them from spilling over.

She takes a single step forwards, a single step... a silent sob escapes her...

 

And everything stops.

 

The whip is no longer falling. May is no longer screaming. No longer dancing. 

 

Coulson is before her, he looks like he’s been speaking for a while but she’s not heard him. She gulps down a long breath, tries to bring her heart rate under control and meets his compassionate eyes. “I’m okay,” she manages to say. She’s not sure any of them believe it.

“Come,” he instructs holding out a hand for her. She follows where he leads her, straight up to a shaking May and she almost collapses in relief when he lays her hand on May’s shoulder. She can feel her, somehow being able to touch her makes everything alright again. She sob laughs, smiling. She’s almost on the edge of hysteria. “May,” Coulson says sharply and the tone is such that she glares at him on May’s behalf but May just rolls her head slowly to look over at him. 

May looks drunk, eyes lidded but pupils blown wide. Her head rolls on her neck, sinking back forwards to hang as she says quite clearly with croaked voice “Not enough.” She inhales sharply as she realises that it’s May’s demand for more. More pain. More hurt. More... just more.

“May...?” she tries questioning her quietly. She doesn’t want her hurt more. Doesn’t want to have to watch her be hurt. Its selfishness she realises – _she_ doesn’t want it. _She_ doesn’t but May does.

“Not yet, Skye,” May croaks in answer to her and it’s enough. It’s confirmation that May really wants this. Confirmation that she needs it, needs more. There’s no doubt in May’s mind. She was certain of that before they started, before a lash fell but in the back of her mind she realises now that she thought for some reason when it began that May would see, that she’d see that she didn’t really want it, that she’d change her mind. Or maybe she hoped that she’d have been wrong, that actually the whipping May wanted Coulson to dish out was like code of some sort, that it was a bit of slap and tickle, nothing serious, nothing painful.

Her eyes are wide open now.

This is what May wants. 

She’s not going to intervene.


	11. Chapter 11

9.04pm  
Coulson

This is something they negotiated at length: he gets to hold her afterwards. He gets to whisper sweet nothings into her hair, to praise her, to tell her how grateful he is for her submission, how well she took her punishment, how she is forgiven, for everything. 

He gets to be the one she clings to as she flies, her tether back to the earth. Her two masters rightfully fought to be the ones to offer her comfort but he was steadfast in his ultimatum. It wasn’t that he wanted to assume their places comforting her, it wasn’t. It’s that for this moment she’s his. He’s sent her there, sent her soaring above the clouds. It’s his responsibility to bring her down safely. His pleasure to hold her as she comes back.

He curls around her protectively, holding her tightly in his arms so that she can feel he is here. They’re sitting on his battered office carpet and he’s wishing that he’d fought more for this to be done in quarters. Theirs, his, hers – it wouldn’t matter. Just near a bed. She deserves to come back to them in comfort and opulence not on this worn old thing.

She’s snuffling slightly as she comes back to herself, rubbing her face against his shirt, already wet from her tears. Her smile as she looks up at him is glorious. She’s unburdened, carefree in this moment like none other. Her eyes are still blown wide, drunk on endorphins, but she sees him now. She tilts her head up, soft lips parted expecting his kiss. He always kisses her. It breaks his heart to look away from her, to refuse her so sweet request, in this moment of all. He glares at the two responsible, her masters, her doms who would refuse her this comfort. They both look awed as they stand watching the two of them. They’ve moved closer whilst he’s been concentrating wholly on her but they’re still a few meters away, not crowding them.

He looks down at her soft sigh. Her face shows her confusion, her lack of understanding. It’s not easy to find reason when so pleasure drunk. He would happily give his life right now to bring her that comfort but he’s given his promise. His promise as a Dom to her masters. He will not betray that trust now no matter how his heart aches to do so. She will survive it, she will understand later if she even remembers.

Skye is at his shoulder and he’s uncertain when she moved in so close. She’s tears in her eyes but none have yet fallen. He hopes it’s at the beauty of this moment, hopes she’s not crying in sadness but in wonder. She reaches a hand down in front of him, brushing across May’s tear stained cheek. May mumbles contentedly as she follows the pressure, turning her head to grace Skye with a blinding smile. 

“Kiss her,” Skye whispers and he’s sure she means him but he’s cautious even now. The scene has been fully negotiated. It wouldn’t do for him to get swept along in the feelings risen in the midst of all of this. He looks to Lincoln, who is still standing at a cautious distance, the question he is unable to ask in his eyes. 

He watches as Lincoln takes a halting step closer towards them but stops himself. Lincoln looks to Skye, looks down considering, his brow furrowed. He’s talking to himself as he thinks it through, says under his breath ‘okay’ and then his head is up, striding towards them with determination. He crouches on the other side, tips May’s head towards him with a coaxing finger under her chin and is graced by that beautiful smile. He takes her lips in the sweetest of kisses, the barest brush of lips against soft lips. He pulls away, eyes flicking up to meet his own. Lincoln licks his lips subconsciously but turns May’s face to his own. She’s still smiling but she’s returned enough to look a little puzzled. 

“Kiss her,” Lincoln whispers to him, nodding at him in encouragement when he feels the need to check again.

 

She’s not his. But for a few glorious seconds maybe she can be.

 

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